Page 20 of Breakout
Grace looks up and smiles. “Morning. Usually I would be in class, but it was canceled.”
“Finally remembered to check your email before you left this morning,” I tease.
Twice this semester Grace has headed off to class only to turn around and come home because class was canceled, and she had missed the email notification.
“It was the top notification.” She shrugs, making me laugh. “I’m just about to make some breakfast. Do you want any?”
“Sure. What are you making?”
“Just some grilled cheese and tomato soup. I know, not breakfast food, but it’s quick and easy.”
“No judgment here. It sounds good. What can I do to help?” I ask as I head toward the sink to wash my hands.
Grace shakes her head. “All I need from you is to sit there and keep me company.”
“Are you sure?”
“Positive.” She nods.
I turn around and sit down at one of the barstools we have. It pains me to watch her and not help, but if she says she’s good, I won’t push.
“So how have you been?” she asks.
“Good. I should be writing a paper for my investment management class, but I couldn’t concentrate.”
She laughs and shakes her head. “I can’t believe you willingly signed up for that class. It sounds painfully boring.”
“The class itself isn’t bad. More the expectation that comes with taking the class.”
“Better you than me,” she says.
She doesn’t know about my father, but I know she has got the sense that this degree isn’t for me. They all have. I refuse to admit it, though. They are the other side of my life. The one who knows my true desires of becoming a professional hockey player. They know nothing of the life my father has planned for me.
“How are your classes going?” I ask, focusing on her instead of myself.
“Passing them all. My economics teacher sucks, though,” she groans.
“How so?”
She cringes. “He is dry as hell and has a monotone voice. I swear he could put someone with insomnia to sleep.”
I wince at her description. “That doesn’t sound pleasant.”
“And it’s an hour-long class. I swear as soon as my ass hits the seat, I’m fighting for my life to stay awake. As soon as he dismisses us, I run to the coffee shop for a pick-me-up.”
The conversation stalls while she turns to stir the soup. I pull out my phone and check the screen. Still no messages.
“Everything okay?”
“Huh?” I ask as I look up at Grace.
“You were frowning pretty hard at your phone. Everything okay?”
I put my phone back in my pocket as I contemplate how to answer. While Grace knows I’m friends with Peyton, she doesn’t know how close we really are, and knowing Peyton, she hasn’t said a word about the lawyer to Grace, which means I can’t tell her about our fight. Even though I know I shouldn’t pry, I do it anyway.
“Have you heard from Peyton lately?”
A crease forms between Grace’s eyebrows. “I talked to her yesterday for a minute, but she was on her way to class. Why, what’s up? Is something wrong with her?”
